On late evenings, driving home from work, Mir had gotten into the habit of passing by Theo’s building. His tired eyes would instinctively search for the familiar windows, and whenever he saw the lights on, an inexplicable calm would settle in his chest.

  That Saturday, the sky was swallowed by heavy gray clouds, as if a downpour was about to break over the city at any moment. Mir left his car near his place after the office and headed straight to meet Theo. When Theo called, Mir had just managed to reach the café and take shelter under its awning, already thoroughly soaked by the sudden rain that had caught him halfway there.

  “Where are you?” Theo asked.

  “I’m here, but it’s pouring… so if you haven’t left yet, it might be better to—” Mir didn’t finish.

  “Wait for me there. I’ll be right there,” Theo replied and hung up.

  Soon enough, he appeared on the rain-drenched street, walking quickly beneath a large bright-yellow umbrella. Spotting Mir, Theo broke into a wide smile and hurried toward him, joining him under the awning.

  “I don’t think this rain’s stopping anytime soon. Come with me—I’ve got a better idea than sitting here drinking coffee,” he said mysteriously.

  “Well, I trust you. Lead the way,” Mir replied, brushing droplets from his damp hair.

  Sharing the umbrella, they made their way to Theo’s place. In weather like that, it truly was the perfect solution. After the cold street, the apartment felt especially warm and inviting, though their soaked clothes were now thoroughly uncomfortable. Theo seated Mir at the tall counter table and disappeared briefly, returning with a towel and a change of dry clothes.

  He stepped close—too close—and gently draped the towel over Mir’s shoulders, his cool fingers brushing briefly against the back of his neck. Mir flinched almost imperceptibly, and not because of the temperature.

  “Your clothes are completely soaked. You see, I try to be a caring friend,” Theo explained, catching the surprised look in Mir’s eyes.

  “I see,” Mir replied with an awkward smile, feeling heat where he should have felt cold.

  “Go on, change quickly,” Theo urged.

  Mir shut himself in the bathroom and peeled off his rain-soaked clothes. The downpour had shown no mercy by the time they reached the apartment—despite the heroic yellow umbrella—so everything went straight onto the drying rack.

  His hair was another matter. He toweled it dry as best he could, but the mirror that had hung above the sink last time was gone. Without it, assessing his appearance was impossible.

  He picked up the wide white T-shirt and gray sweatpants Theo had lent him. The fabric was soft—almost impossibly so—and it seemed to carry Theo’s scent. He was about to wear something that had once touched Theo’s skin. It felt almost like touching him directly.

  The thought sent a rush of inappropriate images through his mind. In the office, he had always managed to suppress them. But here, alone with him, unbearably close, dressed in his clothes and feeling the fabric against every inch of his skin, it suddenly seemed like the emotions he had contained for so long were on the verge of breaking free.

  Cold water helped. A little.

  When he returned to the living room, he found Theo carefully uncorking a bottle of red wine.

  “Want some?” Theo nodded toward the glasses.

  Mir nodded without hesitation. It was exactly what he needed.

  “Do you have guests over often?” he asked, glancing at the modest spread of snacks laid out for him.

  “Not really,” Theo replied, then added, “Actually, you’re the first.”

  “Well, now I feel a certain responsibility,” Mir said lightly, though his mood was anything but light. His heart skipped a beat.

  “That was the plan,” Theo replied. It was hard to tell if he was joking.

  The conversation drifted to renovations and the move that had happened just a few months earlier—hence the unpacked boxes scattered here and there and the faint lingering scent of fresh paint. Eventually, as it often did, the topic shifted to work. This time, Theo peppered Mir with questions, clearly and genuinely curious about the details.

  “By the way… what were you like in university?” Theo asked, propping his head on his hand, elbow on the table, leaning slightly forward as if studying him.

  Mir gave a faint smile.

  “I suspect you’re expecting something boring.”

  “Well, you look like the type who submits his term papers a week before the deadline.”

  “Well…” Mir tilted his head, glancing at him with ironic amusement. “Once I submitted a structural engineering paper a week late. How’s that?”

  Theo narrowed his eyes. “Were you sick or something?”

  Mir paused briefly, then nodded calmly. “Pneumonia.”

  They looked at each other—and burst out laughing.

  “My student life wasn’t that dull, actually,” Mir continued. “Yes, I had to study—a lot, frankly. But I had a friend. We went to university together. He was basically the head of PR. He’s respectable now, but back then? Anything involving parties, chaos, questionable fun until sunrise—that was his territory.”

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Theo tried to keep a straight face, but at “questionable fun,” he broke. First a snort, then he buried his face in his hands, laughing uncontrollably.

  “What?” Mir asked, confused but smiling now too.

  Theo inhaled deeply, trying to calm down. But one look at Mir’s impeccable composure sent him into another wave of laughter.

  “Sorry—sorry,” he managed finally, lowering his hands. His cheeks were flushed. “I just… I pictured you dancing on a table, waving your perfectly ironed shirt around.”

  Mir froze for a second, maintaining absolute composure, though something lively flickered in his eyes.

  “Is that so,” he said quietly. “So while I was describing the hardships of student life, you were vividly imagining the extent of my liberation?”

  “Don’t tell me that actually happened?!” Theo exclaimed.

  “I’m afraid I must disappoint you,” Mir replied dryly. “Unfortunately—or fortunately—I usually left before things got interesting. Perhaps I simply don’t know how to truly have fun.”

  “I get that,” Theo nodded approvingly. “The silence afterward feels like the best reward.”

  They fell quiet for a moment. The muted hum of the city beyond the rain became a backdrop. The space between them filled once again with a gentle, comfortable calm.

  “I remember your thesis defense last year,” Mir said suddenly. “You seemed… genuinely happy.”

  “Oh, absolutely!” Theo laughed. “I barely graduated. I’ve never been that relieved in my life.”

  “Because of work?” Mir guessed immediately.

  Theo nodded.

  “The last two years were insane—shoots, castings, travel. I missed half the semester. Professors gave up on me. Debts piled up. It was like trying to sit on two chairs at once. On one hand, a career—where I probably should’ve taken academic leave, signed a contract, left for Asia or Europe. I didn’t. Because…” He paused. “It felt like chasing someone else’s dream. Not mine. Finishing university mattered to me.”

  “And you did,” Mir said quietly.

  “Barely.”

  “Still. You know how to reach your goals.”

  “Maybe,” Theo shrugged. “Just not always by the straightest path.”

  A pause settled between them—more personal this time. Theo studied Mir thoughtfully.

  “By the way, my clothes suit you,” he said suddenly, smiling brightly.

  Mir did look unusually soft in the borrowed outfit. His damp, tousled hair gave him an unexpected warmth.

  “As long as you approve. Without a mirror, it was hard to tell,” Mir replied.

  Theo stilled for a split second. The rim of his glass clinked softly against the bottle.

  “Oh. Right,” he said, suddenly cooler. “It was poorly secured. Fell with the slightest touch.”

  But just as quickly, his usual lightness returned. He raised their glasses.

  “Speaking of parties… I’d say this turned out pretty well. Way better than getting drenched in the rain.”

  That rainy gray evening, Theo was the version Mir remembered from before everything had changed. There was life in his eyes again. That smile—the one that haunted Mir’s sleepless nights—was back.

  And Mir was certainly not the only one who might feel this way.

  For some reason, Anya came to mind—a blonde, attractive girl from his department. They clearly had something in common. Thankfully, she didn’t know the extent of it.

  “Anya would kill me if she saw this party,” Mir joked, instantly regretting bringing her up.

  Theo smiled faintly, lowering his gaze. He felt no real guilt, yet he was oddly relieved Mir had mentioned her. He had wanted to clarify things too.

  Anya had shown obvious interest in Theo. No one in the office had missed it—least of all Mir, who had caught fragments of her kitchen conversations about messaging him on Instagram.

  “Anya… she’s quite pretty, isn’t she?” Theo asked casually, meeting his eyes.

  “Maybe. I haven’t really noticed,” Mir replied awkwardly, looking away, feeling an unpleasant sting of jealousy.

  “I see… So who have you noticed, then? If that’s not a secret?”

  Do you really want to know that, Theo? Mir thought.

  “That’s difficult to answer,” he said honestly. “As for Anya… she never liked me much. Things were awkward from the start. But you had a perfect chance.” He drained his glass and refilled it immediately.

  Theo stared into his wine, tracing the rim of the glass with his finger.

  “It’s not like I didn’t notice she liked me,” he said at last. “It was hard not to. But I’d just broken up with someone. And, you know…” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Turns out love isn’t exactly pleasant. I had no desire to play that game again. Not the best timing. I guess it’s fair to say I started avoiding her.”

  Mir set his glass down slowly, without taking a sip.

  “That’s why you stopped visiting us so often?” he asked carefully.

  Theo tilted his head, not breaking eye contact, a mischievous half-smile playing on his lips.

  “Were you waiting for me?”

  Mir tried—and failed—to decipher what was going through his mind. Theo just laughed.

  “I’m sure she’s forgotten me by now,” he added more seriously, turning toward the window.

  Mir wanted to believe that too. Everything pointed to it. And yet, one question lingered:

  “Did you love her?”

  “The one you were dating,” Mir clarified.

  Theo looked at him. There was no smile now. No visible regret, either.

  “I did. I think,” he said with a small shrug. “But we got to know each other better, and somehow… everything unraveled. Not the most exciting story.”

  A year and more of memories couldn’t be compressed into two sentences. What he’d once called love now seemed more like painful attachment. When the infatuation faded, it became painfully clear they were strangers with different dreams. She realized it first. One summer Saturday morning, she ended it with a phone call. He kept clinging to feelings that no longer existed.

  But he didn’t want to look pathetic in front of Mir.

  “It’s in the past,” Theo concluded. “Actually… going back to Anya—it was pretty brave of her, saying outright that she liked someone.”

  He paused.

  “I don’t think I could do that.”

  Then he looked at Mir with genuine curiosity.

  “How would you show someone that you like them?”

  Mir’s brown eyes seemed darker under the artificial light.

  “I wouldn’t,” he replied shortly, with a strange half-smile.

  “Why? You don’t want to date anyone?”

  Mir closed his eyes briefly, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

  “With anyone else, I’d answer easily,” he thought. But Theo wasn’t “anyone.”

  Silence stretched.

  “You don’t have to answer if it’s too personal,” Theo said gently.

  “It’s not that,” Mir replied, leaning back. “It’s just… not something I relate to.”

  He didn’t want to build a wall of half-truths between them. There was already something more than polite collegiality here. But he wasn’t ready to speak aloud the part of his life he always kept silent.

  “I’ve always known I’m probably not made for relationships. And I stopped expecting anyone to make me happy. I just live my life.”

  “I get that,” Theo said, taking a long sip. “Or maybe you just haven’t met someone you’d want to be with.”

  Without waiting for a response, he stood and walked to the balcony.

  Mir watched him go, an inexplicable longing tightening in his chest.

  The balcony door opened. The sound of heavy rain poured into the room along with cool, fresh air.

  “And what about you?” Mir called out.

  “What about me?”

  “You said you weren’t ready to ‘play at love.’ Has anything changed?”

  Theo hesitated, then came back to the table, sat opposite him, and leaned forward, chin resting on his hand.

  “People fall for the image. Then they get to know me—and they’re disappointed. I don’t match it.”

  “We rarely match expectations,” Mir said firmly. “You just met the wrong people.”

  “Maybe,” Theo smiled faintly. “Maybe I still have to test that theory.”

  Thunder rolled outside.

  “Doesn’t look like the rain’s ending soon. Want to watch a movie?”

  “Sure,” Mir agreed at once.

  He needed the distraction. It wasn’t easy to sit this close, answering those questions, glass after glass. One more careless word—and he might say something he couldn’t take back.